The Lesser of Four Evils
by queen of the imps
Summary: [Based on both movies, the book, and the TV ads] When Charlie refuses to come to the facotry, Depp!Wonka tries to choose another child. When that doesn't work, he tries to clone himself, but that leads to even stranger occurrences...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Wonka or his kin. Also, I don't own any of the weird 70s references.

If you don't catch the references to Monty Python and Saturday Night Fever, you probably have more of a life than I do.

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The glass elevator settled itself back into its perch back at the chocolate factory, and a disappointed Willy Wonka stepped out, slightly gloomy after being forced to leave the Bucket home without the boy he thought would become his heir. Pouting a little, he made his way into his "office" (a room including a ball pit such as those found at fast food restaurants, a fountain spouting water that kept changing color, and a tiny replica of Hershey Park made of charred figurines) to sit down for a minute and think.

Wonka sat in a little stool on wheels sitting near the room's entrance, and, because he needed to concentrate, began spinning himself on the chair as fast as he could. "Whee-ee!" He squealed as he increased the speed of his dizzying lifun. The Oompa Loompas wandering past the door in the hallway continued to go about what they were doing, treating Wonka's squeals of delight as perfectly normal.

Inside, Willy Wonka tried to meditate as he whirled himself in circles continually. Charlie Bucket had turned down his offer. Which was...weird. So now he didn't have an heir. Which was...weird. So now what?

He didn't want to go back to the Bucket house. Everything there was icky and dirty and there were old people...not a very creative environment, if he did say so himself. Besides, the little boy had already said he wasn't coming to the factory without everyone else in his family. Which meant stinky old people and funny smells. And Charlie's...(gag)...erm...mom and dad.

So where did that leave him? He had chosen the least rotten little kid to run his factory, and he'd turned him down. So what should he do next? He could send out more tickets...but that would mean more children running around the factory, getting their grubby, sticky little fingers in all the candy. Ew. Even as he whirled himself around in his rolly chair, Willy Wonka shuddered at the thought.

He could choose between the other four children. If they weren't too mad about their little mishaps at the factory. Hmm...there was the fat one, the blue one, the bad nut, and the tall one. But which one was the least rotten?

Hmm...the fat one. He seemed to like candy a lot. A little too much, granted, but he did seem enthusiastic about the factory. He would probably know best out of all the children what chocolates were best and what flavors were good, since it seemed like he had some...erm...experience with the subject. And he probably wouldn't mind acting as a guinea pig for some of the experimental candies. The kid would probably just pop the candy into his mouth without thinking, saving some of the Oompa Loompas from some anguish.

But then there was his whole problem with _touching_ the candy. Again, Willy Wonka shuddered as he whirled himself around in his chair. He couldn't sell candy that little boys kept putting their icky little fingers in. Eew. And he had already gotten himself stuck in the chocolate river, ruining an entire batch of otherwise germ-free chocolate...

Okay, so it wouldn't be the fat kid.

Hmm, what about the tall kid? He seemed bright for his age...after all, he did manage to break the system to get his golden ticket. And he seemed to have a good amount of knowledge on those "computer" thingies...that wouldn't be too bad for running the factory.

But on the other hand...the kid hated chocolate. _Chocolate._ The epitomy of all that is good in the world. What could you do with a kid like that?

Okay, so it wouldn't be the tall kid.

And the bad nut...she was such a brat. Really, the only thing she had going for her was the fact that she was rich. Or, rather, her...erm...(gag)...you know..._dad..._was rich. And it wasn't as though Willy Wonka was begging for alms. After all, giant factories were the tiniest bit expensive when it came to making sure the chocolate waterfall didn't flood, the cotton candy sheep didn't get wet, and that the Oompa Loompas' dental plan didn't expire _again_.

Okay, so it wouldn't be the bad nut.

What about the blue one, though? She seemed like quite the ambitious little youngster. Granted, she had (shudder) _hugged_ him, but if she didn't do it again, she might not be so bad. After all, she could probably do good things with the factory, if given the right training. And as for her brattiness...well, most of that seemed to stem from her...erm...(gag)...mom's influence. Maybe if she was kept in the factory long enough, she might be a good apprentice.

Okay, so it would be the blue one. Though he might have to wrench the chewing gum away from her.

Cheered up, Willy Wonka stopped spinning himself around and promptly fell to the ground. After a few seconds, he managed to gather himself together enough that he could stand up, but he still wobbled a bit as he made his way back to the glass elevator. Despite his extreme dizziness, as he passed a group of Oompa Loompas, he could hear them practicing another one of their musical routines.

"We're all lumberjacks and we're okay

We sleep all night and we work all day!"

"Love the choreography!" Willy Wonka called out as he passed by, and the Oompa Loompas replied happily with little fits of laighter.  
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Willy Wonka felt slightly awkward as he made his way down the hotel hallway. He hated, hated, _hated_ having to go outside the factory for long periods of time. So many people, with their icky, dirty fingers...he much preferred the Oompa Loompas. Still, he did need to find an heir...

After checking with Doris, he had managed to hunt down the name of the hotel the Beauregards were staying at, along with their room number. He'd gotten there by using the glass elevator, but now that he was actually _there_ he felt quite uncomfortable. So many _people_...and this hotel was so _dirty_. Honestly, there had to be germs swarming all over the place. For probably the fiftieth time, Willy Wonka made sure his clean, sterile gloves were still on his hands.

_Calm down,_ he told himself mentally. _Just talk to the blue girl and you can get out of here. After all, they'll be going back to the US soon, and you don't want to follow them all the way to _America_, after all._ He forced himself to think of something soothing, something peaceful...

_Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk_

_I'm a woman's man, no time to talk._

Music!

And with that idea planted firmly in his head, Willy Wonka strode down the hallway, happily pretending that he was John Travolta looking spiffy in his disco outfit.

_Music loud and women warm,_

_I've been kicked around since I was born._

_And now it's all right, that's okay,_

_You may look the other way._

_We can try to understand_

_The New York Times' effect on man._

Some of the other people in the hotel stared at the oddly dressed man making his way down the hall humming happily to himself while strutting. The rest just averted their eyes and concentrated on what they were doing.

Wonka, however, paid them no heed as he kept on walking, swirling his cane in time to the music that only he could hear. As a result, he jumped nearly a foot in the air when a familiar blonde woman stared at him, asking, "Mr. Wonka?"

After he recovered from being startled, Wonka tried to put on a winning smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. "Hello...Miss...erm..." Wonka glanced quickly at a flashcard hidden in his sleeve. "...Beauregard..."

The blonde woman smiled toothily at the eccentric man, which made Wonka rather uncomfortable. He backed away slowly, "Yes, erm, hello, I was hoping I could talk to your daughter..."

"Oh, she's asleep right now. It's _very_ late out, you know." Willy Wonka, who had barely registered the night sky when he was out in the glass elevator, nodded slightly. The eerie grin broadened as Ms. Beauregard inched her way closer to Wonka. "What is it you need to talk to her about?"

"Yes, well..." Wonka let out a high-pitched giggle, since he was getting awfully nervous near this woman. "...it's about that prize that I decided to give out to one of the children who came to my factory..."

"Oh, I _knew _my Violet would win! She takes after me that way."

"Erm...yes. But I really do need to talk to her..."

Ms. Beauregard batted her eyelashes. "Of course, of course. Come with me." She led Wonka towards her hotel room, turning her head every few seconds to glance him over and bare her teeth in what was supposed to be a smile. Wonka followed her as a curious feeling of foreboding washed over him, though he couldn't quite tell why.

After unlocking the door to the hotel room, Ms. Beauregarde ushered Wonka in and got him to sit on a small chair. Wonka looked around and, seeing no hint of Violet, figured that this must be a suite. Mrs. Beauregard hastily handed him a small drink of what Wonka thought must be cranberry juice. He nodded, forcing a grin, even though this woman was making him more and more anxious by the minute. Ms. Beauregard, eyeing him like a vulture, hovered around him for a few seconds before hastily excusing herself to the next room.

"I'll be right back. You just wait _right here_."

Again, she grinned eerily. Wonka, once he was certain she had left, sniffed his drink cautiously. This wasn't like any cranberry juice he had ever seen before. He sipped it, then spit it out immediately. This wasn't juice! This was...wine!

It was then that the Barry White music started from the adjacent room, and everything clicked in Wonka's mind.

Some of the people at the hotel the next morning reported an oddly dressed man running down the hallway, screaming at the top of his lungs the night before.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own a copy of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' and 'Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator', and, when it comes out, I'll get the 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' DVD, but that's it. I don't own the rights to it, since I think most of them belong to Roald Dahl's relatives and a candy company that makes sugary sweets.

One of the passages of this book is taken out of Roald Dahl's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". At the end of the passage I'll footnote it so that the real author can be credited. I don't own it. Those aren't my words.

BTW, I would just like to say...wow. When I posted the first chapter to this story, I did not expect that, later that day, I would find my Email inbox flooded with reviews. Seventeen reviews for a single chapter...that's gotta be a personal best. Originally, this was going to be a one-shot, but now, I'm going to extend it. I've already got some plans for the next few chapters. Anyway, here are the review responses:

R. Joy Helvie: Nah, I came up with the 'Stayin' Alive' idea by myself. But I'd like to see the link to that video...scary how people get the same ideas out of Wonka .

Wicked Seraphina: Believe me, it was really hard trying to figure out the stuff going on in Wonka's head. He's just so...Wonka, I guess (I suck at vocabulary). And I can totally see Wonka as a major Bee Gees fan..it suits him, for some odd reason.

TheHomicidalManiac777: Glad you liked it! I never expected so many people to think that this was so funny.

Obscuras Lupa: Thank you! All these nice compliments...you're making me blush!

graceofnight: I can only imagine how someone like Willy Wonka would react to the wine and the Barry White. Goodness knows I'd run away screaming, too.

Super Lizard: Well, I hope you do C-2 it! Please?

xxbutterflypunkbellexx: Monty Python is awesome. I saw 'And Now For Something Completely Different' recently and I laughed like a madwoman. They're all geniuses.

Dollhousesareforwhimps: Poor Willy Wonka. I can't see him being comfortable near Ms. Beauregard ever again. Not after that whole 'endorphins' thing.

Veruca: I don't know if I'll do another CatCF fic quite yet, but I will be continuing this one (as though you couldn't tell already). And I can't wait to see 'Corpse Bride'. Johnny Depp AND Helena Bonham Carter in the same movie...again...ought to be awesome.

Lauryn-Elsa: When I started writing this, I realized that Wonka never, ever refers to the kids by their real names (except Mike Teavee, once, and Charlie at the end of the film). I figured a guy like him would be like 'Okay, who should I pick, Little Boy #1, Little Girl #2, or the Brat Who Broke the System?'

snufflesgal: Thank you! Believe me, it is not easy trying to write Wonka. He's always trying to run away from you, screeching 'I don't wanna be in a fanfiction!', and you have to keep lassoing him back so that you can finish.

Jessedandle: Don't worry, I'm writing more! I already got some good ideas...

Tim Fortune: Why, thank you. I curtsy in your general direction.

VeganHippie: Sure, I'll continue! And as to what really happened...let's just say Ms. Beauregard wanted Wonka for more than just his chocolate...

Erin: Well, I'm glad you like it so much!

no one: Don't worry, your needed dose of Wonka will be provided via IV.

Cap'n Meg: Aw, go ahead and hug him. He needs it. Badly.

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A big thumb up to anyone who catches all my weird little references.

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A good number of Oompa Loompas were gathered outside the door to Willy Wonka's office, chattering nervously about their employer's eccentric behavior (well, more eccentric than usual, in any case). Some of the Oompa Loompas had reported a rather nervous-looking Willy Wonka stepping out of the glass elevator, muttering shakily about cranberry juice. Although the Oompa Loompas tried to ask him what was wrong, Wonka just kept shaking his head, saying something about "the blue one". After that, he locked himself in his office.

The Oompa Loompas wondered anxiously what they could do. They had knocked at the door several times already, and had gotten no response. They had tried putting candy near the door so that the chocolaty smell might lure him out, but to no avail. They had tried to lure him out with some entertainment by performing a disco remix of 'Yellow Submarine'. They had even pretended that a whangdoodle was attacking the factory, but even _that_ didn't work.

Finally, one of the more courageous Oompa Loompas did the only sensible thing left: he put his hand on the doorknob, turned it, and walked inside.

Peering around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, except that there was no sign of Willy Wonka at all. As he continued to wander around the room, he noticed an odd, high-pitched screaming noise, followed by some bangs and scraping noises. The Oompa Loompa followed the noise, figuring that whatever the noise was, that must be where Willy Wonka was hiding.

Eventually, he found his employer, huddled into a tiny lavender armchair in front of a TV screen. Around him lay several plastic cups and some empty bottles of cranberry juice (which was odd, since the Oompa Loompa couldn't recall ever seeing Wonka drink cranberry juice before). It seemed to the Oompa Loompa that Wonka had randomly chosen a channel playing some sort of violent film, since the TV screen was displaying images of a teenage boy being sucked into his mattress right before his guts were spewed all over the ceiling. The Oompa Loompa let out a small noise conveying his disgust.

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it." Wonka replied from his armchair. The Oompa Loompa noticed that he looked jumpier than usual, but seemed fine otherwise. The Oompa Loompa shot him a disapproving glare, while Wonka just stared back.

"Whaat?"

The Oompa Loompa gestured towards the cranberry juice containers and the TV screen, one eyebrow raised. Wonka pouted. "I'm just not feeling very well, that's all. Don't look at me like that." The Oompa Loompa continued with his disapproving look. "Stop it!" The Oompa Loompa didn't waver. "Hey, don't you use that tone of voice with me!" The Oompa Loompa didn't budge.

Wonka sighed. "_Fine._ Be that way." He got out of the armchair and switched off the TV, then shot the Oompa Loompa and unhappy, pouting look. The Oompa Loompa grinned triumphantly.

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A half-hour later, Wonka was back to his somewhat-normal self, cheerily managing the chocolate factory as usual, with all thoughts of Ms. Beauregard long forgotten.

However, one thought _did_ plague him, and that was: who on earth was going to become his heir? Charlie had turned him down, and all the other children were too much trouble to take on. Despairing, he turned to his Oompa Loompa psychiatrist for answers during his weekly appointment that day.

"This is all so...weird. What if I get old and wrinkly and pruny and arthritic and OLD and I still don't have anyone to take over the factory!"

The Oompa Loompa psychiatrist nodded his head and took down some notes. Willy Wonka had begun to notice that, during his weekly appointments, all he ever seemed to do was nod and take notes. He also had the deep suspicion that he wasn't even taking notes, and that if he should ever peer into his notebook, he would find an odd assortment of doodles. Despite his suspicions, though, he kept talking.

"I mean, what options do I _have?_ I mean, it's not like I could _invent _my way out of this one."

And then an idea popped into his head.

"Invent..."

The gears in Willy Wonka's head began turning, and his eyes widened as a plan was devised in his head. "If I could invent a machine that would _make _me an heir, then I wouldn't have to go out and find little children! No more squirrels! No more blueberries! No more shrunken little boys! No Augustus-flavored gloop! And, best of all, _no Barry White!_" He giggled insanely at the thought.

And with a delighted shriek, Willy Wonka leapt up and ran off to invent the machine that would provide him with an heir.

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For the next several days, the Oompa Loompas built Wonka's new machine, a large, extraordinary thing that was placed in the Inventing Room, right next to the Everlasting Gobstoppers. Wonka drew large-scale blueprints that he kept with him wherever he went, and he would check them whenever he got the chance. The Oompa Loompas were curious as to what it was, exactly, that they were building, but they knew Wonka wanted to show them in the most dramatic fashion possible. So they waited.

Finally, after a long wait and many hours of construction, Wonka invited the Oompa Loompas into the Inventing Room, smiling like mad and giggling every few seconds. The Oompa Loompas filed in calmly, but inside they were eagerly anticipating whatever it was that Wonka was going to show them.

A large purple cloth covered the machine, obscuring it from view. The Oompa Loompas thought the cloth was a little unnecessary, since they _had_ been the ones who built the machine it was covering. But Wonka had a taste for the theatrical, so the cloth remained.

"Ladies, gentlemen, children of all ages, along with some adolescents, pets that got brought along for fun, and a few flies swarming around the room! I present to you all, the one, the only: Wonka Cloning Machine!"

The Oompa Loompas murmured amongst themselves as the machine that they had all been working on was dramatically revealed. Wonka yanked the cloth away to display a large, chrome, chamber-like thingamajig.

"Y'see, I figured, you know, rather than have icky little children wandering around the factory, I'd just get myself an heir by making a copy of myself! Now, I won't even need to train my heir, or tell him what to do or anything! And I'll make him a wee-ee-ee bit younger, so that he'll still be around once I'm gone!" Wonka smiled from ear to ear at the Oompa Loompas, very obviously pleased with himself.

The Oompa Loompas chattered among themselves, excited by the prospect of the copying machine. Granted, it wasn't the most ingenious thing Wonka'd ever made...or the most ludicrous...but it was still interesting, nonetheless. Already, they began making plans to have one of the Oompa Loompas 'accidentally' turn the machine on and make hundreds of little Oompa Loompa copies. _That_ would surely ease their workloads. Plus, they'd finally have enough chorus members to put on '42nd Street'!

Wonka seemed quite pleased by all the excited chatter, and his grin seemed to grow wider. He giggled a little, and when the Oompa Loompas had quieted down, he began to speak again. "And now for the final test! I've already tried using this machine on rocks, chocolate, cotton-candy sheep, a snozzwanger, and a few pieces of lint I found in my pockets this morning. And it worked, every single time! So now, with you all as my witnesses, I, Willy Wonka, will make a copy of myself!"

He treaded his way over to the chrome thingamajig, while the Oompa Loompas followed him carefully. The chrome thingamajig seemed to be mainly made up of two large chamber things, with a great mass of wires running between the two. To top it all off, a small electrical cord was plugged into the wall, making the thing seem slightly absurd.

"Y'see, this is how it works: if somebody or something is put into chamber number 1 (I've nicknamed it Simon) after the controls have been set, then a copy of that person will appear in chamber number 2 (which I've nicknamed Garfunkel)."

The Oompa Loompas stared at Simon and Garfunkel, musing over the absurdity of all of this. But, then again, they were used to it. Almost to heighten the silliness of it all, the song 'Mrs. Robinson' was playing on a nearby stereo.

"_And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson!_

_Jesus loves you more than you will know._

_Woah, woah, woah..."_

"By the way, just so you all know..." Wonka shot a knowing smile at some of the more mischievous Oompa Loompas. "The cloning machine will only work if the password is given in my own voice, so that means _no one _can use it but me." The Oompa Loompas laughed internally as they switched on their hidden tape recorders.

Wonka turned to the chrome thingamajig gave it the password it needed. "Open the pod bay doors, HAL." The doors to Simon opened smoothly. Wonka giggled. "I've _always_ wanted to say that."

He stepped inside briskly, waved to the Oompa Loompas, and with the push of a button, the doors closed. A hissing noise emanated from Simon, and purple, lavender-scented smoke poured out. Garfunkel began flashing bright beams of light, and 'Mrs. Robinson' was drowned out by an odd whirring noise coming out of both parts of the machine.

After a few seconds, it stopped, and an odd "Ping!" noise was heard as Wonka stepped out of Simon's doors.

"Well? Did it work?"

Wonka glanced over at Garfunkel, which was still closed, although there did seem to be some sort of movement from within. Every few seconds, a hint of a giggle could be heard coming from Garfunkel, and Wonka and the Oompa Loompas watched with rapt attention, wondering if the machine would actually pull this off.

After several seconds of impatient waiting, the smoke cleared, and Garfunkel's doors opened, and a little man stepped out.

And what an extraordinary little man he was!

He had a black top hat on his head.

He wore a tail coat made of a beautiful plum-colored velvet.

His trousers were bottle green.

His gloves were pearly gray.

And in one hand he carried a fine gold-topped walking cane.

Covering his chin, there was a small neat pointed black beard—a goatee. And his eyes—his eyes were most marvelously bright. They seemed to be sparkling and twinkling at you all the time. The whole face, in fact, was alight with fun and laughter. 1

Wonka stared at him curiously, and watched as the little man skipped his way over to the Oompa Loompas and greeted them cheerfully. "Hello! How are you! I'm fine! What're your names! Where do you live! What a _lovely_ place you have here!"

The Oompa Loompas stared back at him blankly, then glanced over at Willy Wonka for some hint of what to do. Willy Wonka, however, was just as confused as they were. The little man noticed the Oompa Loompas' glances, then spotted Willy Wonka and skipped over to him.

"Hello, hello, hello!"

Wonka giggled nervously, feeling somewhat awkward. "Erm...hi!"

The little man grabbed Willy Wonka's hand before he could say any more, and began shaking it fiercely, to the point where Wonka thought he was going to pump his arm off. "Delighted! Charmed! Overjoyed to meet you! Enchanted! Enraptured! I shake you warmly by the hand!"

"...I can see that."

The little man let go of Wonka's arm and beamed up at him brightly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, well, well, _so_ nice to meet you! How do you do! Who are you and what am I doing here!"

Wonka blinked. "Erm...you're in my chocolate factory..." Wonka giggled nervously again, knowing full well that this man couldn't possibly be a copy of him. "Erm...who are you?"

"The name's Willy Wonka! And, what do you know, I have a chocolate factory, too! Small world, isn't it?"

Wonka blinked. "Wait a minute...you can't be Willy Wonka."

"Of course I am!"

"No, because _I'm_ Willy Wonka."

The little man frowned slightly. "No you're not! You don't even look like me!"

"And _you_ look nothing like _me._"

The Oompa Loompas remained quiet, hoping that they wouldn't get involved in this whole mess. But they did wonder: who was this little man claiming to be Willy Wonka? Little did anyone know, as the two taller men squabbled, that Depp!Wonka had just met Book!Wonka.

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1 Everything from the line "And what and extraordinary little man he was!" to "The whole face, in fact, was alight with fun and laughter" is directly out of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" by Roald Dahl. They're not my words; I don't own 'em.

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	3. Chapter 3

To my darling readers and Wonka-philes:

Miss me? Sorry that it's been awhile, but my computer got a virus, so I haven't been able to type, plus I went away for ten days, so I haven't been able to post or even type (I'm currently using a friend's computer). Hopefully, my computer will be up and running again in a few days, but until then, I'm leaving you a juicy preview to keep you waiting at the edge of your seats for my return:

As the smoke cleared, Garfunkel's doors opened and the two Wonkas peered into its chamber to see what it contained.

They were surprised at what they saw. On the one side stood in a purple outfit, a small flute in his hand. He seemed to be middle-aged, and had dirty blonde hair poking out from under his hat.

On the other side, a tall, string bean-like figure stood, grinning eerily. He had a huge nose and an insane head of hair, giving him a very…_cartoonish_ look.

Depp!Wonka frowned slightly. "who are you?"

The first man smiled slightly and replied. "We are the musicmakers, the dreamers of dreams."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer/And we'll love again/We'll laugh again/We'll cry again/And we'll dance again/And it's better off this way, so much better off this way/I can't clean the blood off my sheets and my bed/

I don't own any of the Wonkas, any of my random little references, or the previous sentence.

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"Are not!"  
"Am too!"  
"Are not!"  
"Am too!"

Depp!Wonka and Book!Wonka had been arguing for what seemed to have been at least an hour. At first, the Oompa Loompas had been at least somewhat interested, but now they were simply bored out of their minds. Off to one side, a large group of the Oompa Loompas was playing Texas Hold'em, while the rest were in the middle of a heated debate over whether 'West Side Story' was really 'West Side Story' without any of the finger-snapping.

"Are not!"  
"Am too!"  
"Are not!"  
"Am too!"

Some other Oompa Loompas were taking bets as to how long it would take for the two Wonkas to stop arguing. So far, about 500 pounds of cacao beans were in the pot.

"Are not!"  
"Am too!"

"Are not!"  
"Am too!"

Finally, Depp!Wonka broke the monotony, folding his arms theatrically and speaking in (what he thought was) an imperious voice.

"Alright, then. If you're _really_ Willy Wonka, then what is the best way to mix chocolate?"  
"By waterfall, of course!"  
"And what is the most fearsome creature in Loompaland?"  
"The wicked whangdoodle!"  
"What is the _only _word Vermicious Knids know how to spell?"  
"Scram!"  
"Aaand…" Depp!Wonka paused dramatically. "How many fingers have I got behind my back?" At this point, Depp!Wonka held his left hand behind his back while his right hand twirled his walking stick.

Book!Wonka looked somewhat amused, as though this were an easy question. "Why, five, of course! Five fingers for every one hand! Isn't that usually the case?"

Depp!Wonka blinked, then pouted a little. "Maybe you really _are_ me." He blinked again. "But in that case, who on earth am I?"

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of that particular thought. That was too confusing, even for him.

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About an hour later, Depp!Wonka and Book!Wonka were riding the pink candy boat down the chocolate river, and they seemed to be having a fairly good time. It seemed that they had more in common than they had originally thought, though that was probably to be expected, anyway. Anyhow, they were sailing along and seemed to be getting along almost swimmingly.

"So, anyway, I gave some of the Fizzy Lifting Drink to an old worker once in the back yard and he went up and up and up and disappeared. I stood there shouting, 'Burp, you silly ass, burp, or you'll never come down again!' But he didn't or couldn't or wouldn't. I don't know which." Depp!Wonka paused. "He must be on the moon by now." 1

Book!Wonka laughed heartily. "Wouldn't you know, I had something very similar happen to me this one time…"

But Book!Wonka didn't have time to finish his sentence, because it was at that point that several Oompa Loompas stood on the banks of the chocolate river, waving their arms frantically. Depp!Wonka frowned slightly.

"Hmm…I wonder what's wrong?"

The Oompa Loompas rowing the boat stopped rowing, curious to hear what their brethren seemed so worried about. Book!Wonka seemed curious as well, watching carefully as the Oompa Loompas communicated with Depp!Wonka using a series of complicated hand gestures. Oddly enough, Depp!Wonka continually nodded his head, as though he could make perfect sense of everything they were saying.

"Uh-huh….uh-huh…you did _what!_"

Depp!Wonka turned to the Oompa Loompas rowing the boat. "Turn this boat around, we need to get back to Simon and Garfunkel." The Oompa Loompas nodded and obediently did so.

Depp!Wonka sat back down in his seat, looking a little harried. Book!Wonka frowned. "What on earth was that all about?"

Depp!Wonka shook his head, clearly stressing out. "They've been messing around in the Inventing Room again…"

Book!Wonka would have inquired further, but at that moment, the pink candy boat crashed into an ice popsicle-berg, and the bottom of the boat began filling up with chocolate.

Depp!Wonka sighed. "We're gonna need a bigger boat."

--------------------------------------------

When the two Wonkas arrived at the Inventing Room, Depp!Wonka seemed relieved when he saw Simon and Garfunkel's familiar chambers. Granted, there was some smoke wafting through the room (and, man, did it reek), but otherwise, the room seemed intact.

Book!Wonka wrinkled his nose at the smell. "What happened in here?"

"My workers messed around with Simon and Garfunkel."

Book!Wonka blinked, then shrugged as though this were completely normal.

Deep!Wonka, meanwhile, was examining Simon and Garfunkel fervently to ensure that everything was alright. Once he realized that they were, he sighed in relief, then turned to the Oompa Loompas, trying to smile in a sweet, saccharine manner. The Oompa Loompas shrunk back a little, not sure what to expect.

"Now, I know it must have been very tempting to mess around with Simon and Garfunkel, and that's okay. We all have our little moments of weakness now and then, like when I design plans to burn down Hershey Park, or when I throw darts at pictures of the Cadbury Bunny. Everybody does it, you know. So I just want to know: what happened here?"

The Oompa Loompas looked at each other sheepishly, then pointed towards the other side of the room, where a closed broom closet lay. Depp!Wonka raised one eyebrow suspiciously, then made his way over to it, with Book!Wonka following closely behind him.

Cautiously, Depp!Wonka opened the door and peered inside, and inside he was greeted by dozens of miniature people. One of them looked straight up at Book!Wonka and gave an enormous grin, then waved. His skin was rosy-white, his long hair was golden-brown, and the top of his head came just above the height of Book!Wonka's knee. He wore the usual deerskin slung over his shoulder. 1

Book!Wonka gave a cry of excitement. "Oompa Loompas!"

Depp!Wonka shook his head. "Yes, but who are _they_?"

Book!Wonka stared at him as though he were speaking a different language. "Why, they're Oompa Loompas, of course!" He turned to the one at the front, whom Depp!Wonka could only assume was the leader. "Hallo there! And what are all you doing here?" The leader responded in a language that Depp!Wonka couldn't even begin to understand. Confused, Depp!Wonka turned to his own Oompa Loompas, who responded with a hand signal which, roughly translated, means "WTF?"

Depp!Wonka, agreeing fully with his Oompa Loompas, responded by asking them, "How many clones did you try to _make_?"

The Oompa Loompas made a hand signal which, when translated, roughly means "A gazillion bajillion."

Book!Wonka skipped merrily up to Depp!Wonka, asking him happily, "My dear old fish, why didn't you tell me you had Oompa Loompas?"

Depp!Wonka frowned. "Of course I do, they're right here." He pointed to the group of Oompa Loompas in front of him. Book!Wonka frowned in response. "No…I mean my pale little friends from the broom closet. He pointed to the Oompa Loompas who had followed him and were staring at Depp!Wonka mischieviously.

Depp!Wonka, rather than replying, looked over at Simon and Garfunkel, thinking to himself. "Huh…"

"What? What is it?"

Depp!Wonka turned to Book!Wonka and asked, "You say that you're Willy Wonka, right?"

"Yes!"

"And that those are Oompa Loompas?"

"Yes!"

"Huh…" Depp!Wonka stared at Simon and Garfunkel. "Maybe they really do work…sorta…" A smile broke out on his face. "Neat-o!"

Meanwhile, the Depp!Oompa Loompas had just learned that the Book!Oompa Loompas could do a mean kick-line. This led to a deep, everlasting bond of friendship.

Book!Wonka was confused. "What's going on here, old fish?"

Depp!Wonka pointed to Simon and Garfunkel. "That's my cloning machine. That's where _you_ came from, my goateed little friend."

"Aha…but why'd you make a cloning machine? Why not make something more useful, like chocolate that really _does_ melt in your mouth and not in your hand?"

"Well, y'see, I'm getting just a _teensy_ bit older, and I need an heir, so I though I could make a younger clone of myself to take over the factory."

Book!Wonka let out a small cry of excitement. "Wouldn't you know, I was having the exact same problem! Y'see, what I'm going to do is send out five golden tickets, hidden in five Wonka bars…"

Depp!Wonka shook his head. "It won't work. Trust me."

Book!Wonka looked crestfallen. "Oh…"

"Anyway, what I'm thinking is, maybe this thing really does sorta kinda work, except not really." Depp!Wonka began pushing some buttons and throwing some levers as Book!Wonka looked. "I wanna try this again. This is so neat-o!" Depp!Wonka issued his password, and Simon's doors slid open.

Book!Wonka held the doors open just as they were about to close. "Hold on there, I want to try too! I need an heir as well, so why not kill two birds with one kidney stone?"

Depp!Wonka shrugged. "If you insist."

And with that, Simon's doors slid shut. The Oompa Loompas watched carefully as, once again, their employers went through a mind-boggling experience that involved many flashing lights, explosive noises, pastel-colored chemicals, and a tiny machine that went 'bing!'

After abut twenty seconds, the two Wonkas walked out of Simon's open doors, asking loudly, "Well did it work?"

As the smoke cleared, Garfunkel's doors opened and the two Wonkas peered into its chamber to see what it contained.

They were surprised at what they saw. On the one side stood a man in a purple outfit, a small flute in his hand. He seemed to be middle-aged, and had dirty blonde hair poking out from under his hat.

On the other side, a tall, string bean-like figure stood, grinning eerily. He had a huge nose and an insane head of hair, giving him a very…_cartoonish_ look.

Depp!Wonka frowned slightly. "Who are you?"

The first man smiled slightly and replied. "We are the music makers, the dreamers of dreams."

Depp!Wonka cocked his head to one side and squinted at him. "Isn't your name Leo Bloom?"

"No, it's Frederick Frahn-ken-steen. No, wait, strike that: my name is Willy Wonka."

"Wait….you're Frederick Frankenstein?"

"I keep _telling_ people, it's FRAHN-KEN-STEEN!"

Meanwhile, Book!Wonka peered at the second of the two men. "And who are you?"

The cartoonish one grinned insanely. "I'm a corporate marketing scheme, but you may call me Willy Wonka as well, provided that you do not violate the trademark laws attached to my name and my parent company."

"Ah…I see."

Little did the four Wonkas know it, but this was about the point where everything went to hell.

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I noticed that when I posted my little preview that no one seemed to even notice that there was a fourth Wonka present. As a result, I'm not revealing the identities of the two new Wonkas (even though most of you know who the third one is) so that you have another shot at guessing. Have fun!

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1 Indicates a passage where everything (or almost everything) is a direct quote (or an almost direct quote) from 'Charlie and Chocolate Factory' by Roald Dahl.


End file.
